THE salvation of God is a free gift, offered “without money and without price,” and yet many dear young people, as well as older ones, refuse the grace and mercy of God.
During a very severe winter, while the snow lay deep on the hard-frozen ground, a kind-hearted gentleman, who did not wish his name to be known, made up his mind to send a present of coal to several persons whom he knew to be in very poor circumstances.
The coal-cart stopped before a desolate-looking cottage and the coalman knocked at the door and told the old man who opened it that he had brought him some coal.
“Who from?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” replied the driver; “all I know about ‘em is they’re bought and paid for, and my orders are to bring them here, to the old man who lives in the cottage by the dyke.”
“It can’t be me,” replied the old man sadly, “no such good fortune for me; I’ve no friends likely to send me coal for nothing.”
“Be quick and show me where you want the coal put,” urged the driver “I can’t stand here talking all day.”
“Take ‘em away, take ‘em away,” almost screamed the old man. “I’ll have nothing to do with ‘em,” and he closed his door with a bang and turned to his desolate, fireless hearth, while the cart with the coal in it that would have brought him so much warmth and comfort, went on its way.
The next day the cart stopped at the end of a low court, and the driver, after looking carefully at his order book, knocked at the door of the first house he came to. It was opened, and he said, “I’ve brought you a quarter of a ton of coal.”
“There’s some mistake, I’m sure,” said the man; “I’ve not ordered any coal for many a long day. Times are real hard for poor folks now.”
“But someone has ordered the coal, paid for them, and sent them to you. Look at my order-book: ‘John Jones, No. 1, F— Court, a quarter of a ton of coal.’ There it is in black and white.”
“I’m John Jones, that’s my name, and I live at No. 1, F—Court, but still I think there’s some mistake. There are half-a-dozen men hereabouts with the same name, or there might be another F—Court in the town.”
“If you don’t stop talking and open your cellar door I’ll put the coal down on your doorstep,” said the driver, losing patience. “I took a load back yesterday, and got into trouble over it; and I’m not going to do the same today.”
So pressed, John Jones slowly opened the cellar door, saying,
“Well, if you will leave ‘em, you must, but I expect you’ll soon be back again to fetch ‘em. Still, if they should be for me, sure I’m greatly obliged, and I’d like you to say so for me.”
Another quarter of a ton had still to be delivered, this time at the house of a poor Christian widow, who herself answered the knock of the coalman, and on hearing that he had brought coal for her, said simply,
“Are you sure that they are really for me? Is there not some mistake?”
“No. Here’s my order, plain enough: ‘Mrs. Day, 24, G—Place, a quarter of a ton of coal.’”
“God must have sent them, for no one but He knew that my last bit of coal was on the fire, and I did not know how I was going to get any more. Bring them in please, and I’ll thank Him.”
“You had better,” said the coalman; and as he replaced the empty sacks in his cart, he added, “you are the only sensible one of ‘em all. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears, I never would have believed it was so hard to get people to take a free gift. What folly it is!”
“What folly!” we should agree in saying. But stay a moment, dear boy or girl. Have you accepted a still greater gift, the salvation of God? It is offered to you as a free gift, but it was purchased at a great cost, “the precious blood of Christ.” “Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” Rev. 22:1717And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely. (Revelation 22:17).
Are you still lingering and saying, “Can it really be for me?”
I remember some years ago visiting a woman who was very ill, and trying to show her from the Word of God that all the fitness God required was that she should own her need of Christ. As I repeated one line of a hymn,
“‘Twas for sinners Jesus died,”
she looked up brightly and said, “Then I am sure He died for me, for I am a sinner.” Then and there she accepted the gift, and together we thanked the Giver.
ML 03/20/1927